LOGINA traitor’s daughter. That has been Octavia Stone’s designation for the past six years ever since it came out that her father attacked Alpha Richard in an attempt to overthrow him for the Alpha title. Her father was killed, and her mother took her own life months later, leaving Octavia to suffer alone in a pack that wants nothing but her suffering for her father’s sins. Roman King is the Alpha of the Blazing Fire pack and Regent of the Southern packs. It is his responsibility to ensure that Alphas are held accountable for how their packs function. Following a lead of missing and dead she-wolves, he ends up in Octavia’s pack where he recognizes her as his mate. Roman raises questions about Octavia’s father and the circumstances surrounding his so-called actions. What nobody expects to find out is the truth about what truly happened the night that Alpha Richard killed her father. Unbeknownst to everyone is the fact that Octavia and her wolf are different and have been paired together for an important task that only they can accomplish. Octavia and Roman work together to fight against danger that threatens everything that they hold dear. It also threatens the werewolf world as a whole. Octavia, her wolf, Roman, and his wolf, must lead the charge. Aligning themselves with other species is a must. Will they come out the victor or the victim? Follow along their journey to find out!
View MoreROMAN.Every instinct I possessed screamed.My pulse, which had only just begun to settle after Vladimir's death, lurched back into a punishing rhythm the moment King Lezdeus and his demon army materialized on the blood-soaked field. Muscles, already burning from the battle we'd barely survived, locked tight with fresh tension.Creed's hackles rose as he stood at attention, every line of his body coiled tight.A deep growl rumbled in his chest—low, primal, promising death—but he clamped down on it the instant he felt the surge of calm being sent to him through the mate-bond from our mates.Danger stood before us. Not the kind we'd just survived. Something far worse.The demons didn't charge forward. They advanced as if they had all the time in the world, their pace unhurried, almost casual. It was as if we'd merely been keeping their battlefield warm until they decided to arrive. As someone who'd survived hundreds of battles, I recognized the tactic immediately.Brilliant. Devastating.
OSRIC.The battlefield exhaled.The battlefield exhaled as one. Moments ago, it had echoed with steel screaming against steel, war cries, and the relentless roar of magic. Now, an eerie silence settled over the blood-soaked ground, broken only by ragged breaths, distant groans, and the crackle of dying flames.The absence of violence felt almost louder than the battle itself, a stark reminder of how quickly chaos could give way to stillness. We survived, but not without sacrifice. I was uncertain how many lives we lost, but I had seen our people fall. That was a consequence of war.I lowered my sword. The blade scraped against stone, and the sound felt too loud.Every muscle in my body screamed in protest. My shoulders burned. My hands trembled almost imperceptibly from the endless hours of fighting. Fresh cuts stung beneath the grime covering my skin, while older wounds had already begun stiffening beneath drying blood.I welcomed the pain. Pain meant I still drew breath. Pain meant I
VLADIMIR. I hissed as the wolf's claws buried themselves in my side. Pain flared through my ribs, sharp enough to steal the breath from my lungs. Her claws tore through muscle before scraping against bone, and for the briefest instant, the Phoenix fire coating them kissed my flesh.Its flames touched me for only a heartbeat. It felt as though molten steel had been driven into the wound.The fire vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving only raw, smoldering agony in its wake. My regeneration immediately surged into action, muscles knitting back together. Slower than I preferred, perhaps, but more than sufficient. The injury would heal.I snarled, more irritated than concerned. The pain was not what angered me. It was the fact that she had managed to draw blood at all.This battle should never have progressed this far. They had simply caught me off guard.Nothing more.They had chosen their timing well, launching their assault before my forces had an opportunity to prepare. They came
STORM. Phoenix fire was unlike any other flame. It did not feed on oxygen or fuel. It fed on emotions. More specifically, it fed on pain.And pain? Pain had teeth. Had a voice that knew your name. It could lock a person in place like rusted iron driven through bone. Stole air from their lungs. Pain convinced them they would never be whole again, that the shattered pieces of who they'd been could never be reassembled into anything worth saving.It whispered in the dark hours when sleep wouldn't come, when the ceiling pressed down and memories played on repeat. 'You are too damaged. Too broken. Look at you—you can barely stand.' The voice was intimate, almost tender in its cruelty. 'You're too exhausted to keep fighting, too weak to take another step.'Pain convinced the wounded that fighting was futile. That taking another step would only lead to another fall, another betrayal, another loss that would crack them open all over again. That surrender was the only mercy left in a world tha
ROMAN.I had waited for this day for as long as I understood that one day I would have my very own Luna, just like Dad had Mom. As a boy, I used to watch them and wonder when I’d have that kind of bond. Something deeper than friendship, stronger than blood. Patience wasn’t always easy. The years dra
OCTAVIA.The low hum of voices wrapped around me as I sat at the long dining table.The King family dinner was something that had occurred multiple times since Roman brought me to the pack. I had to admit that it felt awkward at first, sitting among them with their easy familiarity that living toget
KING LEZDEUS.The flames of the Kingdom of Sul’Karath never dimmed. They licked the horizon in eternal hunger, scorching skies that bled crimson and black. I had long grown accustomed to their heat, though I knew no mortal soul could have survived even a heartbeat in this infernal storm. The air its
ROMAN. I was thrilled that Brock had finally found his mate, just as I had been when James and Demetrius found theirs. The joy on their faces when the bond settled into place was something I would never forget. It was not just pride I felt for them, but a kind of relief too, as if each new thread t






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